Hurricane
by Plantie
Summary: This is my first fic so please be kind. Takes place after the Sectumpsempra, inspired by the song "Hurricane" from 30 seconds to mars. I do not own anything. Reviews are very welcome. Rated M for future chapters. This is DRARRY!


**THE HURRICANE**

"Sectumsempra!" The powerful, so far unknown spell burst from his lips before he could even think about it, and hit the other boy in the chest with a flash of red light. Just for one moment Draco looked at him, grey eyes wide with astonishment, then he was thrown back by the force of the curse, his body falling heavily on the ground with an horrible thud.

Merlin. What have I done. Harry's mind was suddenly overcome with panic, the rage of the fight completely forgotten. He felt his whole body trembling as he stepped forward to look at his rival, who was lying on the floor soaked in blood and water, hands grasping at his own shirt as trying to stop the pain, face distorted in a mask of agony. A sob full of grave escaped from Harry, and his blood started to pulse in his ears, following the furious beating of his heart. He tried to call for help but something was closing his throat in a steel grip, and his voice was nothing but a low, cracked whisper. But someone must have heard him, because the bathroom door banged open and a dark, tall figure stepped inside. Harry had never been more relieved to see Professor Snape in his whole life, but he quickly changed his mind when the Professor gazed at him. For a moment he feared he was going to be cursed by Snape's wand, but instead he kneeled beside the Slytherin and began to mutter some kind of healing spell, completely ignoring him. And Harry took that moment to turn away, running down the corridors like his life was depending on how fast he went, his jaw clenched, his nails digging in his palms, his breathing heavy with regret, he ran and ran, until his legs stopped supporting him and he collapsed near a tree in front of the dark lake's shore, throwing up in the grass.

After a while he managed to sit up with his back leaned to the trunk. The recent shock had drained all the energies from his body, and he felt cold, worn out and numb. But his mind, his mind refused to leave him alone. How could he have been so stupid to use that spell? Hermione told him a million times not to trust that book, and now it was too late. Snape was surely going to eat him alive, and Dumbledore… Gods, he couldn't even start to think about how he would have reacted. Harry was not sure he could have handled to see disappointment in the old man's eyes, but he was sure that even him, this time, would have disapproved this crazy act. All these fears were displaying in front of his eyes, so Harry closed them tight, desperately searching for some relieve, but all he found in his mind was Malfoy's gaze. The way he had looked at him in those seconds before the disaster, shocked, almost unwilling to believe he had cursed him. But, damn it, they were fighting! What the hell should he have done? Not that the blond had been there throwing candies at him. There was no point in feeling guilty. "Fuck you Malfoy, fuck you!" he shouted, but the weight in his chest didn't get any better.

That night, Harry couldn't sleep. Somehow he had managed to avoid his friends enquiries about where he had been all the evening; Hermione and Ron didn't seem completely convinced when he came up with a sickness excuse, but at least they had let him go to bed without further questioning. Once under the sheets though, he began to feel more and more uneasy and restless, he was hot, then cold, then frustrated. He tried to calm himself down with a sip of water, tried to concentrate on next day's classes, even tried to read something, but sleep was still far from coming. And still, he was afraid to admit that it was the thought of Malfoy who was keeping him awake. Was he going to be well? Harry was surprised to discover that, despite his hate for the boy, he was actually worried about him. Not for the hell Harry would have been through if the blond had suffered serious damage, not for the fact that he still hadn't figured out what the Slytherin was plotting behind everybody's back, but for the blond himself. Basically, he wanted to be sure he was well. In order to keep on despising him as usual without feeling like shit. Suddenly aware of what he needed to do he put on his invisibility cloak and headed towards the infirmary, but once there he found the room to be empty. He took off the cloak and sat on a bed, thinking. Maybe Draco was already back in his dorm, already healed, but the sensation that had been stinging inside him was still there; he had to see him with his own eyes, he needed to be sure. It was somehow important, it was the only thing that mattered. "Merlin, what's wrong with me" he muttered, but the trail of his thoughts was soon cut off by a mellifluous voice.

"Well well, maybe the hero of the day has finally realized something is actually wrong with him. Only I see no reason for you to ask such things to yourself late at night out of your bed, Mr Potter. Haven't you been enough _in the limelight_ during the day?" Snape's voice was a low whisper of disgust.

" I only came to see Malfoy, Professor"

"Oh, what a caring young man. First you curse him almost to the point of no return but then you come to see him? I'm enlightened. "

"Well, I..." Harry was trying to reply but Snape grabbed him to his feet and leaned very close, menacing.

"Shut your mouth, Mr Potter, and listen to me very carefully, because I shall say this only once. Mr Malfoy is in his dorm, out of any danger you've tried to cause. But if you ever try to do him any harm again, then I'll make your life a nightmare, and even Dumbledore himself won't be able to help you."

"I didn't know how the spell would have worked, it was an accident, I…"

"Don't lie to me Potter, you heard me. Now move out of my way. Immediately".

"Bloody hell mate! You really are in trouble now!"

"I told you, Harry, remember? I told you not to use that book, but no, you had to go on being careless and completely irresponsible!"

Harry was at the breakfast table with Ron and Hermione the morning after, and he had just told them what had happened.

"Hermione, please, there's no need to shout at me this way. I had an awful night and got a terrible headache".

"Oh, you do now?" Her voice was squeaking so high that half of the Ravenclaw's table turned to look at her. "You'll be having more than that if you don't stop behaving like an idiot".

"Hermione, calm down. Harry surely didn't mean to cause such a mess, right?"

"Exactly what I was trying to say, thank you Ron. I would never have injured someone so badly intentionally, not even Malfoy. It was horrible…I…I hope he's doing fine". Harry shuddered at the thought and Hermione's frown softened. She put a hand on his shoulder and pointed at something behind them. Draco was walking into the room, paler than ever, dark circles around his eyes. He was perfectly dressed up, shaven and combed as always, but he looked _miserable_. He looked _broken_. Harry watched him closely as the blond sat at the table, a wince of pain briefly crossing his forehead, before he took a sip from his cup, ignoring his fellows.

"He doesn't seem too well, does he?" Hermione whispered. "He is so silent and isolated".

"Well, thank Merlin!" Ron spat in a high tone. "At least he won't bully anyone for a while".

"Ron!" Hermione leant across the table to slap him on the head, and the ginger raised both hands, trying to avoid the attack. "What the hell, woman, stop this!".

Laughing to himself, Harry turned his gaze away from the fighting couple and back to Malfoy, but he found that the boy had raised his eyes form the mug and was intensely looking at him. He had expected to see rage, hate and despise, but none of these feelings displayed in the grey eyes. There was something different. Harry couldn't precisely figure out what, but he was incapable and oh my, _unwilling_ to let it drop. Time seemed to stop, frozen, as the two enemies stared at each other; the air was suddenly static as if it was holding its breath, waiting for the explosion. But it never came. Draco suddenly stood up, as if something had hit him, breaking the moment, and he started to walk out of the room. Out of pure instinct Harry did the same, following him, standing up so abruptly that he almost tossed his breakfast on the floor. The Slytherin began to step up the staircase, then disappeared around a corner, but when Harry took the same direction he found that the blond had turned back and was now waiting for him in the middle of the corridor, arms crossed.

"What the hell do you want from me, Potter?" He tried to sound as arrogant as always but his voice quivered.

"I…" Harry stammered. "How are you?"

"As if you care, scarhead."

"I do. I mean, it wasn't my intention to… Look, I'm…err…sorry, I'm glad to see you are fine."

"Have you been confunded, Potter?" Draco narrowed his eyes. "Or is this another way to annoy me?"

"No, I'm serious. Listen, I've been thinking about you all night…" Oh fuck. Even to his years this sounded wrong. What had gotten into him?

"You did what?" The blond let out a scornful laughter.

"Don't get this wrong, Malfoy, I…"

"Oh, I won't. I won't even listen to your wicked bullshit any further. I've got more important things to do. I'm fine, ok? Your stainless attitude is safe. Now go back to your life and keep your nose out of my business".

"I know what you're up to."

"What?" He stared at him, astonished.

"You heard me. I know what you are and I know what he asked you to do. I can help".

If Harry had slapped him directly in face, Draco wouldn't have been more shocked. For a short moment the Gryffindor thought that it had been a good idea. The other boy's lips began to tremble, and he looked like he was going to let go, to tell him everything, to let him help. He took a step towards the blond, without thinking. He felt himself drawn to him, he wanted to _comfort_ him. He reached out and touched Draco's shoulder, but the other guy warded it off, pinned him brutally to the wall, his usual bully manners back in a rush. "Leave me alone, Potter" he whispered hoarsely in his ear. "I don't need your help. I don't need your interest." And after a last, hard shove he let him go, walking away.

Harry watched him go, fighting the urge to follow him once more. He opened his mouth to say something, to make him come back. He knew that the little monster inside his chest wouldn't have left him alone if I he hadn't found a way to let Draco know he was sincere. He let out a loud breath, running his fingers in the dark, thick hairs. The consciousness of what he had just done slowly began to sink inside him, and soon he was mentally cursing at himself, feeling the greatest fool in the whole world. He started to pace back and forth on the cold stone, unable to stay still.

No wonder that Malfoy reacted like that, when even Harry was puzzled by his own unfortunate remarks…I've been thinking about you all night…I can help…Oh my. What on earth was he trying to get?

"Enough." He thought aloud with a hurt tone "He will be doing fine, doesn't need my help. Enough now". But it was only the beginning. And maybe he would have guessed that if he had noticed the incredulous Slytherin who was peeking at him from behind the corner.

In the following days, Harry tried to forget everything that happened, he tried to act normal around his friends and during classes. He even began to practice Quidditch alone every day, in a desperate attempt to keep his mind clear from haunting thoughts. He knew this wasn't working, but refused to focus on that burning sensation inside him, a sensation that something was missing, that what he used to have, and always made him happy before, wasn't enough anymore. He longed, craved for someone, and it was wrong in so many ways that the Gryffindor was scared by his own desire. So he kept on doing anything he could to avoid dangerous introspections during the day. Unfortunately, his nights were something else. Deep silvery eyes always emerged in his mind once asleep.

And then, one night, the dream was different. He was there in that deserted corridor, and he was facing a livid Draco. Everything seemed so real that Harry tried to place a hand on the other boy's shoulder, as he had wanted to do on that day, but this time, Malfoy didn't back off; he came closer instead, till he was so close that Harry could feel his warm breath ghosting on his face. Unable to prevent himself, he placed his lips on his, and may God have mercy, that felt like pure bliss. His lips were so soft, the kiss was so engulfing and warm that he soon started to pull Draco closer, letting his finger run through those scented, blond hair. He felt the Slytherin's tongue on his bottom lip…and then he woke up, panting heavy. Harry was shocked, terrified, and, sweet Merlin, _aroused._ All those feelings started to shake in his chest, together with the consciousness of what he had just dreamt, and he felt so overcome and powerless that he began to cry, his face hidden in the pillows to muffle his deep, desperate sobs.

In the meantime, spring had arrived to Hogwarts. Harry, Ron and Hermione took advantage of every free time between classes and homework to take a walk in the park. On a particularly bright and scented afternoon, they were soaking the sun on the lake shores. Harry took a deep breath, laying down on the soft grass, and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he found that Hermione was looking close at him with a worried gaze.

"Are you sure you are ok Harry?" She asked.

"For the umpteenth time 'Mione, yes, I'm fine." He answered, exasperated.

"Oh, I don't know really. I can tell there's something wrong with you, I want to help you, please."

Harry buried his face under his hands, and listened to the light snoring of Ron, who had fallen asleep with his mouth open. After a while, he slurred some incomprehensible words.

"Harry, I can't hear what you are saying." Hermione stated.

"I think I'm in love".

5


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